Benedict Who?
by RussiaRanda
Summary: Samantha thought she was just going to the bar for a couple of drinks, but instead meets someone extremely unexpected. Benedict fic.


I really didn't want to go out. I tried to pump myself up as I got ready to go, but the cold, rainy weather put a damper on my spirits. At least the bar wasn't too far from my apartment. It hadn't been a block and my feet were already in pain from my heeled boots; a bad decision on my part. I arrived at the bar a couple minutes early, so I decided to grab a drink. It was packed inside, to my distaste. Shuffling through the crowds, I made it to the actual bar, where luckily a couple seats sat unoccupied. I unbuttoned my coat and slung it around the seat next to a man occupied with his phone. Just as I sat down, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Yes?"

"Samantha! Hey. We're just about there. I brought Mike and Maria along if you don't mind?"

"We'll I don't really have a choice, now, do I Tanya? No, it's fine, really. I'm at the bar when you walk in. There should be a table free for us once you get here."

"See you in five!"

Hanging up my phone, I looked up to see Thom, the bartender, leaning on the counter in front of me.

"The usual, Sammy?" He asked in his hard- to- understand Liverpool accent. I smiled and nodded. As I tucked my phone away, a deep voice startled me.

"American?"

I looked beside me, the man to my right staring at me from the corner of his eye.

"Canadian, actually."

"Much better." A half smile formed on his face.

"Definitely."

Thom came back with my drink, and I sipped it as the man turned closer towards me.

"You seem familiar enough here. How long have you been in London?"

"Almost a year now."

"Why?"

I looked up from my drink, offended. But the man was still smiling.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Sammy...? I-"

"Samantha."

"Samantha, I'm Ben." He extended his hand to mine. "I was just wondering what brought you here."

"I needed a change. I also got a job offer from a publishing house here."

"Hm." Ben took a sip of his drink.

"And what do you do?"

"It's a long story." His eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh. Well-"

"SAMANTHA!" A loud voice squealed. I turned to see Tanya waving her arm frantically, squishing through the crowd.

"Hey!" I got up and hugged her.

"So where is this table? We'll go grab it while you get us drinks!"

I pointed over by the window and Tanya pulled Mike and Maria that way.

"Margaritas!" She yelled behind her.

I collected my coat and placed the order with Thom. I noticed Ben was again occupied on his phone. He was cute, actually. His hair was a dark brown with slight curls, and his cheekbones were fantastic. There was something about him that drew me in. I rifled through my purse, looking for a pen. Grabbing a napkin, I scribbled my number.

"If you ever feel like telling that story or just having a conversation, Ben, give me a call." I slid the napkin over to him and grabbed the drinks.

The whole night turned out to be pretty fun, although Tanya did most of the talking. By the end of the night I was thrilled. It was energizing to be out. I said goodbye to the group, and prepared myself to brave the rainy walk home. As I passed by the bar, I saw that Ben was no longer there. I wondered if he had met someone, and cringed mentally as I realized the possibility of him having a girlfriend. That could be messy. I flipped my umbrella open and ducked into the rain. My phone buzzed from my jacket and I stopped to fumble in my pockets. Did I forget something in the bar? I looked at the display and saw an unfamiliar number.

"Hello?

"I've decided to call you, as requested." A deep voice responded.

"Ben?" I questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Who else would it be?"

"Listen, I've just left the bar. Can I call you back?" I really didn't want to hang up, but it was going to be difficult to talk while my teeth were chattering. I audibly shivered.

"I can see that. I have a car waiting outside if you would like a drive home. You sound cold."

I turned around and noticed a black car idling in front of the bar. I should have found it weird, but I was just so interested in getting to know this stranger.

"Um. I've just met you, though."

"I swear I'm not some creep. I just left the pub myself, and saw you preparing to leave. I thought I'd wait and give you a drive, if that's alright with you."

"I guess that would be fine." I shook my head and hung up.

As I got closer to the car, Ben exited to open my door for me.

"Thanks." I looked down at my feet.

The car was warm and welcoming. Ben opened the other door, shaking his hair out as he sat down. The driver turned in his seat and smiled, showing several of his teeth to be missing.

"Where to, love?"

I cringed. It took time to get used to the English slang.

"18 Baker."

The car started moving, and Ben closed the glass window between us and the driver. He turned to me, a worried frown on his face.

"This may seem strange of me to say, but even though we only talked for just a couple moments, I enjoyed your company back there. You seem like someone I could get to know. I actually quite like you, Samantha."

I raised my eyebrows, taken aback by how forward he was being.

"I thought about it, and for so long I have been denying myself what I want because of the position I am in." He sighed.

It was almost as if he was talking to himself. What did he want from me? I felt uneasy. We pulled up to my apartment building and I started relaxing a bit more.

"What are you getting at?"

"First, are you aware of who I am?"

My head started creating tons of scenarios. What if he was some kind of crazy murderer, and I just jumped into a car with him like it was nothing. At least he was a good looking murder. I almost forgot he asked me a question. I blurted out the first thing in my mind.

"A really soft spoken murderer?"

He chuckled, the rumble of his laugh surrounding my ears.

"Alright; so you don't."

"Well now that's off the list!" I pretended to brush sweat off my forehead.

He leaned in closer to me, a smile still on his lips.

"You're cute. I don't know why I am doing this. I would like to see you again, if you're all right with that. A sort of date, possibly?"

I looked at his face. It was harmless. I had to admit that I was just as interested in him. I nodded, and sat further into my seat.

"First things first, who are you? I don't want to be going on a date with some serial killer." I smiled.

"This is where the long story begins." Ben reached over to the glass window and slid it open, cocking an eyebrow at me. I nodded.

"Around the block a couple more times, John?"

As the car started moving, an anxious feeling started building in my stomach.

"Can I trust you?" He glanced over.

I looked down at my hands. This man, whomever he may really be, was about to lay everything out on the table, and was asking for my complete trust. It was a different situation, but I was drawn in. I nodded quickly.

"Of course you can."

Ben sat up straight in his seat, clearly tense. He cleared his throat loudly.

"To start, I lied to you."

"What?" I gaped at him, taken aback.

"I meant well-"

"Meant well?! You just asked for all of my trust and-"

"Just _listen_. My name is technically not Ben, but I couldn't go shouting about what it really was earlier, or my _one_ night off would be ruined."

I searched his face, looking for a hint of familiarity.

"Well now I feel weird. What is your name, then?" I crossed my arms, sass mode activated.

"Benedict Cumberbatch."

The moment he said that, my cool composure dropped. Picture upon picture started flooding my mind. That face was extremely familiar, now that it had a name. Tanya had spent months 'fangirling' over this man; endlessly showing me interviews and images of him. This man was the star of a _huge_ television show here in the UK. He was Sherlock Holmes. How did I not remember that _face_? Granted, I never really paid attention when Tanya went into rants. But still, I understood why he would have to keep his presence a secret. I looked at his face, and noticed he was expecting a reaction.

"Umm."

"I knew this was a bad idea." Benedict mumbled under his breath.

I glared at him, wondering what exactly had fueled him to think he had made the wrong decision.

"Excuse me? I think the bad idea was lying to me in the first place. I didn't realize who you were, and now I do. Sure, you are the fabulous Sherlock Holmes on TV, but that doesn't change my earlier opinion on you. I honestly don't care _who_ you are," I ranted. "Tanya might, though," I added as a side note.

Benedict stared at me, stunned. I wasn't sure what to expect, but then he laughed.

"That's really great. You honestly don't care?"

"I'm not a liar." I raised my eyebrows.

"I am sorry for that. About that date then? And let's try to keep this_ Tanya _in the dark, if possible." He smiled.


End file.
